


Welcome Party

by GemmaRose



Series: Hornicron [19]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Breast Fucking, Breasts, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Established Relationship, Invisibility, Lingerie, Marathon Sex, Mech Preg (Transformers), Mirror Sex, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Play, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Ribbons, Shibari, Size Difference, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Suspension, Valve Oral (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24003955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Riptide makes good on his promise. Silkscreen has averygood time.
Relationships: Original Cybertronian Characters/Multiple
Series: Hornicron [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1509995
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Welcome Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withersake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withersake/gifts).



Silkscreen shuddered as his helm broke the surface of the oil, a low whine sliding from his vocaliser as he curled closer to Riptide, sparks of charge jumping from his plating to the mech carrying him.

“Took you long enough.” an unfamiliar voice said sternly, and Riptide’s easy laugh vibrated through his body, intensifying the charge that kept circulating and amplifying between the nodes of his valve.

“Yeah, cuz look what I found!” Riptide’s arms around him shifted, lifting Silkscreen further up out of the lake, hips canted up as one strong finger stroked his modesty panels. “Turns out, my eggs can do this!” Riptide exclaimed as Silkscreen’s panels popped open, exposing his valve to the cool air of the lake again. Another whine slid from his lips, and his arm shook as it moved but he still managed to press a hand over his valve, fingertips tingling as he kept the egg within from sliding free. It was so much, too much, but it felt so _good_. No wonder the Mysteries and Tribunes had warned them all to stay far away from the planetside mechs here; if everyone back home knew they could get overloads like this, they’d leave the colony in droves.

“Oh, and who’s this pretty little thing?” the unfamiliar voice asked, sturdy and square arms scooping under Silkscreen and lifting him from Riptide’s arms. “Don’t mechs like you have those big, bulky guards you go around with?”

“He was alone when I found him.” Riptide supplied, pulling Silkscreen back into his arms as Silkscreen fought his optics back online. They were on a boat, at least five other mechs around them, all optics on him and Riptide. He spread his legs some, as much as he could manage with how Riptide was holding him, and moaned as the shift intensified the charge spiralling through his valve.

“Primus, that’s hot.” one of the other boat mechs whispered, and the nearest one, white and blue with a bright blue visor, slid closer. One of his hands joined Silkscreen’s on his valve, and Silkscreen whined as his hand was pulled away from his valve. Riptide’s arms under him shifted, spreading his legs wider, giving everyone a good look at his stuffed valve, and the mech in front of him let out a deep moan, engine revving and field flaring with lust.

“Think you can push this out?” he asked, and Silkscreen managed a nod, Riptide’s helm turning to nuzzle against his audial as he forced his rim to relax. His frame jerked and trembled as the egg slid free, charge shooting over his rim and out towards his hips, grounding where Riptide’s arms supported the backs of his thighs. A blocky finger brushed his anterior node, and he nearly arched right out of Riptide’s arms as he overloaded, the egg falling free and leaving him achingly empty, his worn-out valve clenching down on nothing.

A whimper slid from his vocaliser, and as he trembled his way through the aftermath of yet another processor-blowing overload a memory from earlier flitted through his thoughts. He let his helm loll back and to the side, leaning against one of Riptide’s shoulders as he summoned up a wavering grin. “So-” he coughed, but it did nothing to clear the static from his vocaliser or aid his straining vents. “Did I make a good first impression?”

“You made the _best_ first impression, doll.” the visored mech purred, leaning in and lifting a hand to caress his cheek. Silkscreen’s engine purred at the praise, but whatever the mech said next was completely lost on him as his processor rapidly sank into recharge.

\---

Silkscreen moaned softly, engine purring away as something slick and dextrous slid over the first internal ring of nodes in his valve, the chiming of a bell accompanying tiny bursts of charge and weak flutters from his calipers. He spread his legs wider, and moaned again when the glossa- yes, that’s what it was, a glossa in his valve- dove deeper, bell ringing again as it flicked against the second ring of nodes before retreating to shallow stimulation with a gentle hum and pleased flicker of a field against his own. He prised his optics open, and immediately went tense at the sight of utterly unfamiliar surroundings. A strange structure, strange landscape beyond its open not-walls, full of strange mechs- he counted seven, including the one between his legs- with unfamiliar altmodes.

“Oh, you’re awake.” a mech with a blue visor rose to his pedes, and Silkscreen’s groggy processor pulled up a file from- last night? With no local star, keeping time was difficult, but he’d seen this mech before he passed out. “Recharge well?” the mech asked, and now that his processor wasn’t fogged with the aftermath of the best overloads of his functioning Silkscreen was able to get a better read on him. His public tags designated him Jazz, Co-Captain of the ASV Shoreline and an Autobot, whatever that was.

“Where am I?” he asked, and Jazz chuckled as he rested a hand atop the helm of the mech between Silkscreen’s legs.

“You’re safe, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’re out on the lake, and all the local tessons know better than to frag us off by now.” he looked down at the mech between Silkscreen’s legs with a fond smile, the kibble on his back fluttering in clear joy. “Getaway thought you might like to wake up to some nice low-level charge. He’s such a thoughtful one.”

Getaway’s engine purred louder as he pressed up into Jazz’s hand, and Silkscreen abruptly realized that the mech didn’t have a strangely striped paintjob. He was covered in ribbons, ranging from thin shimmery things clearly meant for decoration to thicker straps which could likely make decent restraints. Both of which, he noticed with an uneasy churn of his tanks, he himself was also decked out in. Soft, shimmery ribbons wound around his chassis, emphasising the bulge in his protoform where his abdominal armour had been removed and the twin swells of his breasts, while heavier straps lashed around his hips and shoulders, wrists and ankles, hooking up to cables which kept him suspended above the deck.

“What do you want with me?” he asked, doing his best to ignore how his valve clenched and throbbed, lubricant dripping from his swollen rim down to the deck. Primus, he already missed that clever glossa in his valve.

“Well, Riptide got his turn with you yestermeg.” Jazz smiled, moving around to Silkscreen’s side to pat his distended gestation tank. “But the catch with that is, his eggs need to be fertilized _after_ implantation. So he likes to bring his hosts home and make sure they get alll the transfluid they need, at least for a quick kickstart.”

“I don’t think I have enough space in my tank for that.” Silkscreen said, casting a critical optic over his swollen middle, recalling how unbearably full he’d felt when Riptide was fragging him. His valve clenched at the memory and he had to bite back a whimper. How much heavier would he get, how much bigger would he grow, if he let these eggs be fertilised?

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” another mech cajoled, walking up behind Getaway. His tags designated him Springer, also a Co-Captain and Autobot, and he came to Jazz’s waist at a generous measure. “I’d be willing to bet a week’s worth of my rations you can take an overload from each of us, save Riptide.”

“You can always say no.” Jazz offered. “The eggs will dissolve if they’re not fertilised within a deca-cycle, no side-effects at all. We let you off on the shore, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.”

Silkscreen bit his lip, looking past Jazz and Springer to the rest of the crew of the Shoreline. The rest of the strangers here looked, well, they looked cared-for. A round-helmed mech with orange shoulders contrasting a white and blue paintjob sat patiently on a stool as a blue and white mech in sheer fabric neglige draped him with shiny chains and sparkly jewels, a beastformer sprawled on his chest across a nearby bench as a red mech with a large cylindrical piece of kibble touched up his polish. Even Getaway between his legs seemed perfectly content being laced up in ribbons, a flimsy braided chain of the shimmery ones attached to the belled collar around his neck, the other end resting in Springer’s hand.

“And if I don’t want that?” he hedged. Jazz and Springer’s optics lit up, and Springer had to tug sharply on Getaway’s leash to stop him form diving right back into Silkscreen’s valve, the loud jangle of the bell drawing every optic their way.

“If you don’t want those eggs to disintegrate, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” Jazz purred, his hand sliding down from Silkscreen’s belly to pet just above his spike. “Frag your pretty little valve ‘til you’re _really_ fit to burst, and those eggs are primed to start growing into Riptide’s cutest bitties yet.”

Silkscreen couldn’t bite back his whimper at the mental image Jazz’s words conjured, cycle upon cycle of incomparable overloads, his gestation tank heavy with transfluids, a round bulge in his abdomen which would only grow with time, swell into two whole new mechs, new sparks kindled within him. “I- I think I’d like that.” he admitted, and the rest of the mechs rose at some silent signal, moving closer as Getaway dove back in to fervently eat out Silkscreen’s valve, glossa plunging deeper than before, pressing harder on yet-untouched nodes.

“Ironfist, be a doll and go grab Riptide and a mirror will you?” Jazz directed the mech draped in fine jewellery, who nodded and turned to head belowdecks. “Mirage, once Getaway gets an overload out of this mech I want you to warm him up for me and Springer.” the blue and white mech with the lacy barely-clothes nodded, and Silkscreen mande a mental note to ask him later where he got such garments, the patterns weren’t like anything they produced on Fae.

“Getaway, pet.” Springer cooed, pressing up against the mech’s back. Their helms were level with each other, even with Getaway kneeling and Springer fully upright, allowing Springer to nuzzle right up to Getaway’s audial. “I know you can do better than this.” he purred, engine humming, and Getaway whimpered into Silkscreen’s valve, rocking in place. “Come now, he should be writhing in those straps by now, your clever glossa at work.”

Silkscreen let his helm fall back with a moan as Getaway redoubled his efforts, glossa probing deep as it could go, the slick appendage evading every clench of his callipers. “Harder.” he panted, and Getaway let out a pitched whine as he pressed further forward, mouth opening further to scrape his denta over Silksscreen’s rim. He choked on a sharp cry, hips jumping as he tried to rock into the pressure without leverage, and actually managed to cry out in dismay when Getaway was pulled from his valve, the sound layering with Getaway’s own disappointed whine and the cheerful chime of the bell.

“I thought we had you trained better than this.” Springer scolded, field stern. “How long have you been neglecting this, pet?” he asked, and Silkscreen nearly screamed as rough fingers pinched his anterior node, rolling and then tugging the sensitive nub without mercy, releasing him just before he could overload.

“Please.” he panted, a hot trail of lubricant running down his aft, the drips of it hitting the deck just as loud in his audials as his and Getaway’s fans. “Please, do that again.”

“Hear that, pet?” Springer purred, releasing Getaway’s leash. “Go on, make Riptide’s host happy for Master.”

Getaway all but pounced as soon as he was set free, glossa laving over Silkscreen’s node, wrapping around it, revving him higher and higher. Soft lips pressed to the burning derma around his node, and Silkscreen wailed as denta scraped the nub, catapulting him into overload. He sobbed when Getaway was pulled from his array, bell ringing cheerily, then sobbed again as blunt fingers set on his node in his stead.

“Lookit that.” Jazz purred, pressing just right and tripping Silkscreen into another overload on the heels of the first. “Overloading so pretty for us, and we haven’t even got a spike in you yet.”

“Please.” Silkscreen gasped, optics fuzzing over with static as he met Jazz’s gaze through that beautiful blue visor. “Please, spike me.”

“Hear that, ‘Raj?” Jazz purred, the light behind his visor sliding sideways, focusing on the mech who now stood where Getaway had knelt, the scrap of lace slung across his hips pulled aside to let a slender silver spike protrude unhindered, a single bright blue biolight running up the underside to match the stripes in his hip and shoulder sockets, and pairs of what looked almost like barbs lining the top.

“Oh I hear him.” Mirage purred, golden optics a low, smouldering amber as he licked his lips. “Lower his hips for me, would you Dominus?”

“Springer?” another voice asked from off to the side, and Springer gave an affirmative grunt. Some hidden mechanism up above clicked, and Silkscreen gasped as his hips were lowered but his ankles remained at the same level, his pedes pulling together just slightly with the chance in position.

“Now get on over here.” Springer ordered, gesturing for the beastformer who must’ve been Dominus to approach. “You and Getaway make sure these lovely tits aren’t going unattended until it’s your turn.” he ordered, and the jangle of a bell announced Getaway scrambling to his unoccupied side. Two mouths sealed over his nozzles as strong, slender hands grabbed him by the hips and held him still for that beautiful spike to grind against, and Silkscreen went limp in his bonds as pleasure swamped his processor.

“What, you guys started without me?” Riptide whined, and Silkscreen groaned as he lifted his helm, giving the sharp-denta’d mech a dopey smile, pulsing _excitement affection lust_ at him through his field.

“Only just.” yet another unfamiliar voice said as Silkscreen’s optics fluttered shut again, Springer’s rough hands cradling the back of his helm. “Mirage hasn’t even properly started yet.”

“Been waiting on you and that mirror.” Mirage huffed, and Silkscreen moaned low as he was penetrated in a single swift stroke, Mirage’s slender spike sinking easily to the hilt and the almost-spines raking against Silkscreen’s forward valve wall as Mirage slowly pulled out.

“Optics open.” Springer said, and Silkscreen whined, charge skittering over his plating even as it coiled deep in his tanks. “I said, optics _open_.” Springer repeatedly more sternly, reaching over Silkscreen to harshly grasp and tug on his node. Silkscreen obeyed, and found his helm pointed towards Riptide, seated behind- floating lingerie? The garments moved, and Silkscreen moaned at the drag of almost-spines against his nodes before it clicked. Mirage had turned invisible, somehow.

“Can you see the mirror?” Jazz asked, fingers brushing along the edges of the ribbons wound around his chassis. “What do you see?”

“I see-” Silkscreen fought to focus his optics through the haze of pleasure, mouths on his nozzles and Mirage’s spike tunneling deep into his valve and Jazz’s hand straying up between his breasts to rub at the edge of his spark window. “I see me.” he gasped, arching up into Mirage’s thrusts as much as the straps supporting him allowed.

“Can you see your valve?” Jazz asked, hand trailing up Silkscreen’s breast to pet the back of Getaway’s helm with a pulse of approval.

“I-” Mirage found a sensitive node cluster, and Silkscreen wailed as he tripped into overload yet again, his optics locking onto what was now right in the center of the mirror. His own valve, spread wide around an invisible spike, charge leaping from nodes to invisible receptors as Mirage continued to pound into him, hands tight on his hips as the mech moved ever faster.

“Can you see it?” Jazz asked, his voice low and husky. “How beautifully you take his spike, such a perfect host.”

“Yes!” Silkscreen cried, doing his best to meet each thrust as Mirage’s pace grew frantic.

“Optics on the mirror.” Springer ordered, as if Silkscreen could look anywhere else, focus on anything past the overwhelming pleasure but the sight of himself taking that lovely spike so easily, so _deeply_. Mirage overloaded with a shout, and Silkscreen followed soon after not just from the feeling of hot, charged transfluid splashing his ceiling node and being sucked into his gestation tank, but also from the _sight_ of it happening, his valve being painted shimmering silver even as lubricant gushed from it.

“Good bot.” Jazz purred, petting Silkscreen’s belly before moving to wrap his arms around the reappearing Mirage, murmuring something in his audial too low for Silkscreen to make out over his own fuel pounding in his audials and fans screaming as they tried to cool his frame.

“See?” Springer’s engine rumbled behind his helm. “You’ve got plenty of space in there. Percy, you’re up next.”

“What about me?” someone- Iron-something?- asked, and Springer chuckled.

“I can lower our pretty little host, if you wanna frag his tits. Just remember to save your transfluid.”

“I will!” Iron-whatever agreed eagerly, and Springer moved from behind him. The mechanism overhead came alive again, raising his hips and lowering his chassis, and Silkscreen whimpered as he felt a thick, blunt spike head press against his fluttering rim.

“Please.” he gasped, rocking his hips against it and moaning wantonly as the tip rubbed over his node.

“Not yet.” the mech between his legs chided, pressing closer to grind the underside of his spike against Silkscreen’s rim, each pronounced ridge sweet agony as it scraped over his throbbing node. “I want to see that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around Ironfist’s spike.”

“ _Primus_.” Silkscreen moaned, optics fluttering shut as Jazz directed Riptide to move over to Silkscreen’s side.

“No Primus here.” Ironfist purred, straddling his chest, his impressively thick spike between Silkscreen’s breasts, which Getaway and Dominus helpfully pushed together around it. “Just us and our Masters.”

Silkscreen tilted his helm willingly, optic shutters opening halfway to watch as Ironfist began rocking his hips. The pronounced bumps of Ironfist’s charge receptors ground hot against the soft derma of his breasts, each thrust going a little easier as Ironfist’s own pre-fluid slicked up the tight channel. Between his legs, Perceptor huffed in annoyance, his field flaring sharply. “Would you get on with it already, Ironfist?” he snapped, and Ironfist’s hips jumped as the mech stiffened, pre spurting from the tip of his spike.

“Percy.” Springer’s field and subglyphs were heavy with warning, his tone dark. “You can have your fun with Ironfist later.”

“He’s enjoying it.” Perceptor scoffed, and thrust into Silkscreen without warning. Silkscreen bucked into the sudden burst of sensation with a wail, heard faintly the sound of crystal falling to the deck, and nearly choked as Ironfist rocked forward far enough to settle the tip of his spike inside Silkscreen’s mouth.

“Optics open, mech.” Springer reminded him again. “Riptide’s got the mirror up for you again.”

Silkscreen’s gaze shot towards his pedes, and Springer chuckled. “Look up.”

Silkscreen did, and if his mouth wasn’t already wrapped around Ironfist’s spike his jaw surely would’ve dropped. He looked the very picture of debauchery, a mech on either side mouthing at the swells of his breasts and a third fragging between them. It was erotic enough in first-person, but to see it from the outside... he nearly overloaded on the spot. Perceptor _did_ overload at the clench of his calipers, and Ironfist thrust deeper when he gasped at the shock of heat and charge pushing him right to the brink.

“That’s a good mech.” Jazz purred, settling in at his side opposite Riptide as Springer moved away. “Ironfist, you’re not fragging him hard enough. Make his tits _bounce_.”

“Yessir.” Ironfist gasped, and doubled his pace, making Silkscreen moan at the friction and splashes of pre-fluid into his mouth even as Perceptor pulled out.

“That’s it, just like that.” Jazz purred, rubbing absently at Silkscreen’s belly. “Ironfist, if you overload I’m going to be _very_ disappointed. Silkscreen needs every drop for Riptide’s eggs, don’t you?”

Silkscreen pulsed affirmation in his field, then moaned as Ironfist slipping his spike just a tiny bit deeper coincided with another spike piercing his valve. It was almost as thick at the tip as Perceptor’s had been at the base, and didn’t even fit all the way in him on the first thrust. “Still good and tight.” Springer’s engine revved, the vibration travelling through his spike directly to Silkscreen’s core. “Now, I’m gonna frag you nice and slow while Fisty here gets you worked up proper. Think you can hold off on overloading until he’s ready?”

Ironfist’s thighs trembled, and Silkscreen gasped as the spike in his mouth pulled back. “He wants an answer, doll.” Jazz purred, fingers pressing ever so slightly harder on Silkscreen’s distended tank. “Can you hold off on overloading, or do you want us to break out the inhibitor?”

“First.” he gasped, cycling his calipers down deliberately and moaning at how little he could tighten the ones at the entrance of his valve.

“You heard the mech, Springer.” Jazz laughed, leaning down over Dominus to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the edge of his jaw. “Ironfist, enough with the tits, let’s let Getaway and Dominus get back to the nozzles. You scooch up and frag his mouth as hard as you want.” Jazz’s voice dipped into a low purr as his hand slid from Silkscreen’s belly to cup Ironfist’s aft, urging the mech up onto his knees and forward. “Riptide, fetch our pet an inhibitor ring and have your way with him. And one for Dominus here, too.” past Ironfist’s thigh, Silkscreen saw the beastformer press up into the hand on the back of his helm. “Silkscreen’s getting his rewards for being a good mech, Dom deserves the same.”

Silkscreen jolted as his focus was abruptly dragged back to his own frame by a sharp nip to one of his nozzles, a thrust stretching his rim further, and a mouthful of spike so big he actually choked a little. The mechs on him moved as one, his high whine only muted by the spike scraping its way down his intake. He sucked on it as best he could, but the girth of it trapped his glossa against the bottom of his mouth, raised charge receptors rubbing against the inside of his cheeks and scraping against the tubing that led down to his fuel tank. Between Springer’s thick, solid spike forcing his valve open and the two mouths on his nozzles, it took most all of his energy to keep himself from overloading.

“So good.” Ironfist moaned, thrusting hard again, working his array closer to Silkscreen’s lips with each roll and grind of his hips. “Wanna- wanna overload, all over your pretty face. Paint you silver-” he cut himself off with a whimper, hips stilling and field pulsing wildly, _lust desperation admonition_ buffeting Silkscreen as Springer kept forcing his valve open wider and wider.

“Is that really all you can do?” Jazz chided, lifting his hand from Silkscreen’s belly to touch Ironfist instead, drawing out a low whimper. “Come on, just imagine how much better it’ll be trusting into his pretty little valve. How hot and tight it’ll be around your spike, just _perfect_ for fragging.” his engine revved, and when Dominus and Ironfist _both_ moaned Silkscreen forced his optics back open to see what was going on. Jazz was grinding against Dominus’s aft, one hand sunk into Ironfist’s hip joint and undoubtedly playing with the wires there. “Imagine how much prettier he’ll look when you’ve fragged him open so wide we can see him painted silver all the way in.”

Ironfist moaned in earnest, as did Silkscreen, though his was muffled by the thick, knobbly spike fragging its way back down his intake. “That’s a good mech.” Jazz purred, drawing his hand from Ironfist’s hip joint and setting it back on Silkscreen’s belly, rubbing circles over the taut derma there.

“Got ‘em!” Riptide said breathlessly, rushing back into Silkscreen’s field of vision and skidding to a halt, golden optics going wide and round. “Ohhhh, you look _good_.” his hand dropped to his spikes, wrapping around them both at the base and giving a squeeze. “Fragged silly is really your colour, huh Silky?”

Silkscreen couldn’t even begin to formulate a reply to that, Ironfist fragging his face with renewed enthusiasm as Dominus and Getaway were pulled from his breasts. He couldn’t whine through the spike in his intake, but his field pulsed at the loss of sensation and Springer chuckled, hips rocking forward and pelvic plating meeting Silkscreen’s. “Don’t worry, they won’t be a minute.”

He barely had time to wonder what a _minute_ was before, true to Springer’s word, the mouths were back on his nozzles, Dominus and Getaway both moaning freely into his breasts. This time, though, they rocked in place, Getaway’s ribbons and armour an additional processor-spinning point of sensation as Riptide fragged the mech against his side. Jazz laughed, and Ironfist tilted sideways, presumably pulled in for a kiss.

“I’ve got one in your size too.” Riptide offered.

“No.” Springer’s voice was rough with static, and Silkscreen moaned as that short, thick spike worked in and out of his valve, slow and steady and impossible to ignore. “He’s done enough. Fisty, get on down here and show the mech what you can do.”

“Yessir!” Ironfist gasped, and Silkscreen whined as both spikes in him pulled out. How was it that he could be so full, and feel so _empty_? Thankfully the moment didn’t last. Ironfist took Springer’s place between his legs, and that thick, glorious spike rammed into him nearly to the base in a single thrust, fitting easily where Springer had loosened him up and then forging right ahead into the deeper parts of his valve, the bumps scraping harshly over his internal nodes as he was spread open all the way in.

“Oh, _frag_.” Ironfist gasped, grabbing onto Silkscreen’s hips and pulling out only just enough to thrust back in equally hard and fast, this time bringing their arrays together. “Frag, it’s so- it’s so good. You feel _so good_.” he babbled, and Silkscreen moaned loudly as he overloaded again, frame spasming as his calipers clenched down, pressing nodes directly against Ironfist’s charge receptors and lighting his valve up in pure ecstasy. Ironfist’s own overload a moment later only intensifyied the charge surging from his valve up through his core, a second overload on the heels of the first, pure ecstasy in his every line.

The mouths on his nozzles pulled away, drawing a thin whine from his vocaliser, and Jazz’s hand smoothed over his belly again. “You’re doing great.” he purred, rubbing firm circles into the taut derma, pressing gently on the stuffed tank below. “Got plenty of room left for Dominus and our pretty pet to have their turns.”

“Please.” Silkscreen gasped, arching blindly up into Jazz’s touch.

“You heard the mech.” Jazz chuckled, leaning down to drop a kiss on one tender breast. Silkscreen moaned, hips bucking again, but this time they met resistance. Two mechs slotted between his thighs, spikes out and poised to spear him open. He wiggled his hips, and a small, clawed hand slipped under his pelvic plating to wrap around a bundle of cable and wires, guiding his rocking motions onto the pair of spikes. They slid in together, the hand in his cabling tugging just so to urge his legs wider, spread his hips to accommodate the stretch of his valve.

“Getaway, pet.” Jazz crooned, leaning over Silkscreen to reach for Getaway’s helm, fingers curling against the back of the magnetised ears. “Shouldn’t you thank Silky here for letting you frag him?”

“Tha-” Getaway’s vocaliser hitched as Dominus began to pull out, the pair taking up mismatched rhythms. “Thank you, Silkscreen.” he panted, hips rocking almost desperately into Silkscreen’s.

“Dominus, what do you think?” Jazz asked, releasing Getaway and resting his hands on Silkscreen’s bared protometal, one splayed over the taut bow of his abdomen and the other kneading his breast. “Isn’t he just the prettiest catch Rip’s ever brought us?”

“Absolutely.” Dominus answered, the breathy glyph sub-tagged with awe. “No dispensary could hope to compare.” his hips snapped forward, a low animalistic sound slipping from his vocaliser as he rutted into Silkscreen, his spike pressurising further somehow, stretching his rim even more.

“You’re both doing so good.” Jazz crooned, smiling indulgently at the pair between Silkscreen’s thighs. “You’ll get to overload as soon as he does, and then ‘Raj and Percy will clean you up.”

“Thank you.” Getaway gasped again, the fingers of one hand sinking into Silkscreen’s hip seam while the other wrapped around his spike. Dominus bent double, thrusts going shallow as he took the tip of Silkscreen’s spike in his mouth and _sucked_. Silkscreen overloaded so hard his vocaliser shorted out, mouth falling open in a silent wail as he arched in his restraints. Twin jets of hot transfluid pushed him over the edge again, taking out most of his sensory suite. Getaway fragged him with desperate abandon, but Dominus sank himself to the hilt and dug his claws into Silkscreen’s seams, the base of his spike swelling.

The third overload from the stretch of being knotted forced a hard-reset of his sensors, and Silkscreen let out a static moan as Getaway was extracted from between his legs. He tried to close them around Dominus, but the straps suspending him at the ankles prevented that. “Not- enough.” he gasped, valve quivering as stressed calipers attempted to clench around the base of Dominus’s spike. Another spurt of transfluid bathed his nodes in fresh charge, and in what felt for all the stars like a single smooth motion Dominus pulled out and Springer pushed in.

This time, their arrays met.

“Knew you could take me.” Springer purred, hands settling on Silkscreen’s thighs, pushing them just slightly wider, far enough that his actuators strained at the position. “How does it feel?”

“Big.” Silkscreen gasped, and Jazz chuckled, a dark but melodious sound.

“He means this, doll.” Jazz murmured, giving a pat to Silkscreen’s belly, where his gestation tank now protruded notably further than it had when he woke up. “How’s it feel, knowing you’re being filled up by the best mechs on the lake?”

“Good.” he managed, vocaliser spitting static a moment later as Springer’s spike rammed into the port to his gestation tank.

“Details.” Springer ordered, and Silkscreen shivered.

“I- heavy.” he moaned, rocking into Springers thrusts as best he could. “Full. _so_ full.”

“But it’s not enough, is it?” Springer asked, his hands on Silkscreen’s thighs tightening, dragging him backwards onto that thick, heavenly spike. “You need more. More ‘til you reach your limit, ‘til anything we pump into you comes right back out.”

“We could make _such_ a mess of you.” Jazz added, leaning in to nuzzle at Silkscreen’s cheek, leave a little nip on his jaw. “You’d look good with our silvers all over those pretty hips.” he vented hot across Silkscreen’s derma, denta sharp in his smile. “Do you want to make a mess, Silky?”

Silkscreen shook his helm. “In me.” he whined, the glyphs thick with static and raw need.

“ _Such_ a good host.” Jazz crooned, caressing his face. “You’re gonna make sure these eggs get all the nutrients they need.” he returned to massaging Silkscreen’s belly, his touch firm and nearly overwhelming in concert with Springer’s deep, steady thrusts. Primus, he’d never been so full before, his valve battered open right to the ceiling and tank so heavy its weight on his internals was near to unbearable. And still, it wasn’t enough. He’d thought that Riptide’s eggs were his maximum capacity, but even now the warning on his HUD only blinked a cheerful red 85%.

“Hey Rips.” Springer called out, and Silkscreen saw a shadow on the ceiling shift. “How corrupted did you say this one was?”

“He wasn’t.” Riptide responded, and Jazz and Springer’s fields flared with first shock, then a lust-drenched _respect admiration pride_.

“You must’ve been forged for this.” Springer grunted, thrusting faster. “Taking us all so easy with only Riptide’s corruption in you.”

“And taking Riptide, before us.” Jazz’s visor shone bright as he curled his fingers over Silkscreen’s belly. “Primus below, you’ll be such a perfect carrier.”

Silkscreen writhed in his bonds, charge rising with every glyph that passed Jazz’s lips. “Beautiful.” Springer grunted, pausing in his accelerating thrusts to grind his spike deep, the tip teasing against Silkscreen’s internal port. He overloaded with a sharp cry, the port irising open to receive Springer’s transfluid as charge cycles between his nodes an the green mech’s receptors. Springer’s field pulsed dark with a pleased satisfaction as he pulled back, thrusting in one last time to hilt himself completely, the tip of his spike rubbing against the inner edge of Silkscreen’s internal port as he rocked his hips.

His overload bypassed Silkscreen’s nodes entirely, heated transfluid pumping directly into his aching gestation tank, and Silkscreen bucked up against him as the warning on his HUD flashed brighter. Eighty seven, ninety one- Springer stilled with a low groan at 93%, and Silkscreen whimpered when the mech pulled out. He felt so blindingly full, but at the same time hollow, lubricant streaming from his gaping valve to slick his aft and splatter loudly in the puddle beneath him. “Please.” he whined, and Jazz bent over him until that hypnotically blue visor filled his entire vision.

“Please what?” Jazz purred, gripping his chin. “You gotta be specific, doll.”

“Please, fill me.” Silkscreen whimpered, and Jazz leaned in to brush their noses together, humid ex-vents ghosting across Silkscreen’s lips.

“I’ll make an utter mess of you.” he promised. “Frag you so good you’ll keep coming back for more.”

“More transfluid, more overloads...” Springer purred, taking up Jazz’s place as Jazz slid down between Silkscreen’s trembling thighs. “And once you’ve laid this pair, Rips can give you more eggs. Keep you nice and full and pretty, all for us. Our perfect, pretty little host.”

Jazz’s spike slipped in easily, notably more slender than Springer’s but longer to make up for it. Silkscreen keened as it pierced the fluttering port to his gestation tank, scraping over the sensor-rich metal, stretching him in a way he’d only been stretched once before. He overloaded fast, and hard, and Jazz kept fragging him through it. And the next overload, and the next, until every sensor in his frame _screamed_ with charge. “Can you overload for me again, Silky?” Jazz purred, brushing a thumb across the plating just north of Silkscreen’s largely ignored anterior node. “One more, I’ll make it good for you. I’ll make a right mess of you, maybe let our pretty little pet clean you up. Would you like that?” his fingers wrapped around Silkscreen’s node, and Silkscreen overloaded right into bluescreen.

\---

Silkscreen woke not in the intricate bindings he’d hung from throughout the session, but cradled against a warm frame, strong arms wrapped around him and a large, powerful engine rumbling underneath. Another, slighter mech slotted between his legs, shoulders under his thighs. The field which cloaked him was familiar, comforting with a touch of anxiety. “Arac?” he mumbled, and his Frontierer partner tilted his chin up so their optics could meet. Even hazy as his still-booting vision was, it was nice to see a familiar face.

“You’ve gotta stop wandering off like that.” Arac murmured, snuggling him closer. “We’re gonna be in so much slag for this.”

“We?” he frowned, then let out a breathy moan when Arac’s big, warm hand cupped his belly. Primus, he was still so full. his valve clenched, and a glossa flicked against it, licking up the transfluid he could feel oozing out.

“Oh hey, you’re awake!” Riptide exclaimed, twisting to shout out of the room they were in. “Hey guys, Silky woke up!”

“I said I wouldn’t talk to them until I knew you were okay.” Arac explained. Silkscreen sighed, relaxing back into his Frontierer’s embrace.

“I did ask for this.” he said as pedesteps rang closer on the metal decking. “It felt good.”

“Yeah, and you said that you wanted to come get some local flora to work into new designs. They won’t be happy with this.” he patted the taut curve of Silkscreen’s bulging gestation tank again, and Getaway caught another dribble of transfluid at his rim, the bell on his collar chiming merrily as he did so.

“Who won’t be happy with what?” Jazz asked as he walked in, his dark thighs still scuffed pink and white and stained with dried lubricant.

“Our bosses.” Arac huffed as the rest of the crew filed in. Dominus, Silkscreen distantly noted, had been fully detailed and polished to a high shine. “We’re not supposed to have contact with your kind. I’m not supposed to let it happen.”

“Well, that’s fixable.” Springer grinned, elbowing Jazz in the side. Silkscreen grabbed Arac’s hand and pressed it tight over his belly.

“He means we could dose up and give Arac here a similar treatment.” Jazz clarified.

“Percy can nail you with one of his darts, we give you the Shoreline Special, you both go on your way saying you got ambushed and overpowered.” Springer crossed his arms with a wide grin. “Shoreline’s taken tougher mechs than you.”

Silkscreen frowned as Arac thought it over. “I thought Shoreline was the name of your ship.”

“Yeah, it is.” Ironfist bobbed his helm. “She’s nowhere near as big as Riptide at his full size, but she prefers her altmode.”

“Plus, I’m not really set up for living on.” Riptide grinned, the flash of his sharp denta making Silkscreen’s calipers cycle down hard. Getaway moaned softly into his valve.

“Wait, you’re telling me we’re on a _living mech?_ ” Silkscreen stared at the mechs clustered at the front of the room, who exchanged unreadable looks with each other while Jazz shrugged.

“I mean, she is. And she’s not gotten laid in a while, so with her help we’ll be able to get Arac nice and full too.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing, I guess.” Arac sighed. “Think you could rough me up a bit, too?”

“Absolutely.” Springer nodded, gesturing the rest of the crew out of the room. “Bring Silky up on deck with us, we can do a little hand-to-hand on our way to shore. Get us all nice an’ warmed up.” he flashed an absolutely lecherous smile, and Silksreen whined softly as he was shifted in Arac’s arms, pulled away from Getaway’s eager, clever glossa.

“He can finish eating you out on deck.” Arac huffed, standing with Silkscreen in his arms. “Let’s just hope this works enough to keep us out of the really deep slag.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to any not-logged-in readers, but due to an ex who refuses to leave me alone I have had to disable anon comments. Kudos are still open though, and if you want to scream (or would like me to write a fic for you as this was written for SirenSong) come check me out on Pillowfort! No account required to get my discord, and I'm always happy to chat. [[Link](https://www.pillowfort.social/GemmaRose)]


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